


Fire in Your Eyes, Magic in Your Touch

by klainederful



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-The Raven King, TRK reaction fic, The Raven King Spoilers, adam feels guilty, adorable boyfriends, missing moment, ronan isn't having it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7047592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klainederful/pseuds/klainederful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>!!TRK SPOILERS!!</p><p><i>He was angry at himself for not having been strong enough to stop the demon from using his hands, and at Ronan for not having been strong enough to stop </i>him. <i>His heart was on fire with it, but Ronan was fireproof.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire in Your Eyes, Magic in Your Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [yet another song by Lady Antebellum,](https://youtu.be/GKpo9B_adh8) because apparently I can no longer listen to them without thinking about Pynch. It's a problem.

There were purple marks on Ronan’s neck, standing in stark contrast against the black lines of his tattoo and the paleness of his skin. Finger-shaped and angry-looking, they seemed to call to Adam, whispering accusations. Adam felt nauseous just looking at them. He knew from personal experience how much they had to hurt, could feel the phantom of his father’s hands on his neck and the throbbing and burning in his throat once he was allowed to breathe again. But Robert Parrish wasn’t the one to blame for Ronan’s bruises.

Adam hissed as Ronan dabbed antiseptic on his face, where the demon had left deep scratches, jerking away on instinct. Ronan cupped his chin to keep him still, his grip gentle and his thumb tracing soothing circles on Adam’s skin, and Adam felt pressure build behind his eyes. Because Ronan’s touch was careful and gentle and loving, and Adam - Adam had hurt him.

“Ronan.”

Ronan’s thumb stilled, but he didn’t lift his eyes from his task. “Almost done.”

The roughness of his voice and the gentleness of his touch made Adam’s throat tighten with guilt. Ronan’s hands were warm on his skin, and Adam wished suddenly that he would tighten his grip, make him feel the same pain he had inflicted him. But, he knew now more than ever, Ronan would never do that. His hands came up to encircle Ronan’s wrists, but he thought better of it at the last moment and curled them into fists instead.

“Stop,” he snapped, turning his face away. Ronan did, but the concern evident in his eyes and pinched eyebrows was even worse than his careful touch. Adam’s skin itched with tension, nails biting at the tender skin of his palms from clenching his fists too tight.

“What’s wrong?” Ronan’s bed creaked under them as he shifted closer, then stopped when Adam glared at him. Following Adam’s gaze, he looked down on himself, but Adam could tell he still wasn’t getting it.

“You asshole, your _neck_. Your neck is what’s wrong.” His voice broke a little, and he blinked back the burning tears he could feel coming. Ronan’s mouth twisted in a grimace.

“Parrish,” he said slowly, head slightly bowed to better meet Adam’s eyes. “They’re just bruises.”

“Just- “Adam inhaled sharply, hands trembling in his lap. Ronan bore the signs of Adam’s violence on his skin and his voice, and still he dismissed everything as _just bruises_. The enormity of that understatement made him laugh a bitter, unhappy laugh. “I almost killed you, you idiot, and you just _stood there_!”

The words were like a match igniting his temper. He was angry at himself for not having been strong enough to stop the demon from using his hands, and at Ronan for not having been strong enough to stop him. His heart was on fire with it, but Ronan was fireproof.

He said, calmly, “Stop that,” and grabbed Adam's hands, prying his fists open. His nails had left small crescent-shaped indents on his palm, and Ronan traced them with the pad of a finger, at once soothing the reddened skin and pouring water over Adam’s anger.

“I begged you to stop me, to knock me down,” Adam went on, his voice barely more than a whisper now. The horror of what had happened was still fresh, crawling beneath his skin like a living thing. “But you wouldn’t.”

Ronan just shrugged. “I could never hurt you.”

He said it like he’d said “I took Chainsaw out of my dreams” a night months ago, when everything was just starting. Unconcerned and matter-of-fact, as if it wasn’t something that meant the world, as if it wasn’t supposed to rob Adam of his breath as if he’d been punched after all. Adam’s anger sizzled and died, leaving behind only a cloud of smoke that made his eyes smart.

He drew a shaky, watery breath, and used his free hand to grab a fistful of Ronan’s shirt. “You jerk. How do you think I felt while the demon used my hands to try and kill my boyfriend? That hurt me, too.”

Ronan smiled at that, a wide, brilliant smile, and Adam jabbed his side in retaliation, feeling a fierce blush warming his ears and cheeks.

“What?”

Ronan’s grin didn’t even dim in the face of Adam’s outrage. “You said ‘boyfriend’. That’s the first time you called me that.”

Adam blinked, taken aback, as warmth unfurled in his chest because of how utterly ridiculous and _perfect_ his boyfriend was. _His boyfriend._

This wonderful, caring boy with an armor of steel and a heart of gold, and he was _his_.

“Seriously?” He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t quite manage to keep the fondness from his voice. “ _That_ ’s what you’re focusing on?”

“Yep.” Ronan nodded, cheeks dusted with pink, and Adam shifted closer to him, close enough to rest his head on his shoulder as he’d done back at the picnic area. Ronan brushed a hand through his hair and sighed, all traces of laughter gone. He said: “I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t apologizing for refusing to hurt Adam, but for failing to recognize that he _had_ hurt him anyway, just not in a physical way. Adam brushed his nose against Ronan’s collarbone, inhaling his scent and enjoying the way Ronan’s breath stuttered in his chest.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Parrish.” Ronan pulled Adam flush against him with an arm around his waist and brought his mouth to his good ear. “It wasn’t you.”

Adam knew that, but he also knew it was his fingers that had tightened on Ronan’s pale skin, could remember how tender and fragile his neck had felt under his fingertips.

“I ripped out Blue’s stitches,” he grimaced at the memory of blood staining her face and his fingertips red. She was at the hospital with Gansey right then, having her wound treated again because of what he’d done.

Ronan bumped their foreheads together, the tips of their noses touching. “She doesn’t blame you. None of us do.”

Adam sighed, because he knew it was true, and because he couldn’t stop feeling guilty anyway. But, he thought as Ronan’s chest rose and fell steadily under his hands, it was over now. It was over.

“Alright,” he mumbled weakly. Ronan must have thought he didn’t sound too sure, because he took Adam’s right hand in his, turning it so he could show Adam his own scraped knuckles.

“Besides, you couldn’t hurt anyone even if you tried. Look at that, you can’t even throw a decent punch.”

“Shut up.” Adam half-heartedly tried to pull away. Ronan laughed.

“I mean, you _punched a tree_ , Parrish, come on. What a loser.”

Adam’s laugh joined Ronan’s as relief flooded his body, loosening his muscles and lifting the corners of his mouth. He slipped his free hand under Ronan’s shirt to pinch his side, and was rewarded by an indignant yelp. They were close, so close Adam could feel the heat of Ronan’s body through his clothes and the shift of muscles beneath his hands. Ronan’s skin was warm and soft, and Adam squeezed his hip to feel him gasp and see his eyes darken.

His gaze fell on Ronan’s neck once again, pale and bruised, and his hand hovered above it, hesitating for fear that his touch wouldn’t be welcome. But Ronan reached out to grab his hand and lead it to his neck, blue eyes filled with trust, and Adam ran a finger over one of the biggest marks, careful not to press too hard.

“I’m still sorry about the bruises.”

Ronan raised one eyebrow, lips curving into a teasing smirk. “Prove it.”

Adam didn’t need to be asked twice. He closed the distance between them, wiping Ronan’s smirk away with a slow, deep kiss that he hoped conveyed everything he couldn’t say out loud: how scared he had been, how sad he was for everything they’d lost, how happy for everything they’d gained. Ronan moaned into the kiss, loud and unrestrained, and Adam felt it everywhere. He bit and tugged at Ronan’s bottom lip just to hear him again, then his mouth travelled down, small kisses leading to his throat. He blew on the abused skin of Ronan’s neck, eliciting a delicious shiver from Ronan as his head fell back against the headboard, then brushed his lips against every one of his bruises, tender and careful. Ronan tasted of salt and clean sweat and rain, and he said Adam’s name in a reverent sigh. Adam thought it was the best thing he’d ever heard.

“There,” he pressed a final kiss on Ronan’s neck, then pulled back to look him and grinned smugly at how absolutely _wrecked_ he looked. “Better?”

Ronan blinked at him, all flushed cheeks and puffy lips. He didn't answer, just hooked a hand around Adam’s neck and pulled him in again, capturing his mouth in a kiss, then another, and another, and another. For long, blissful minutes, nothing existed but them, bodies moving together and lips whispering secrets in a symphony of whimpers and moans. Adam’s hands were only his now, and he ran them across every inch of Ronan’s skin he could reach, leaving behind a trail of pleasure that he hoped could erase the violence from before, both from Ronan’s heart and from Adam’s own.

There were purple marks on Ronan’s neck, and they told the story of the nightmare they’d gone through and the things and people they’d lost - Noah, already fiercely missed, Persephone, Cabeswater. And Aurora, whose death had been violent and horrible and had left bloody handprints behind Ronan’s eyelids.

But Gansey was _alive_ , and so were they, and the future was yet another quest they couldn’t wait to go on. Together.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Raise your hand if TRK has destroyed you emotionally *raises both hands*  
> As always, thank you so much for reading! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧ You can find me [here](http://klainederful.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.  
> (Not a native English speaker, so if you notice any mistakes, please tell me so I can fix them!)


End file.
